Page 70 of Love Overboard
“What?” She recoiled. “I didn’t hear anything about it.”
“The company kept it quiet on purpose. The authorities suspect foul play, and it appears Newberg was involved in a cocaine-smuggling operation that’s been using Monarch ships.”
“That’s beenwhat?” Lacey’s nostrils flared. “They’re usingourships to transport drugs?”
Jon took hold of her elbows. “We’re attempting to figure out how they’re doing this, but it’s hard to keep track of a thousand crew members and five times that many passengers. Your help would be much appreciated.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to put those deductive abilities to work for something bigger than a bathroom scribbler.” He ran his hands down her arms until his fingers clasped hers. “Lacey Anderson, I’ve been alone too long. Will you do me the honor of joining forces to catch the smugglers?”
Lacey’s thoughts swelled in a giant tidal wave of questions.
Cocaine on Monarch Cruises? Who was behind the operation? How were they getting the drugs on and off the ship?
And why was Jon—
Her eyes narrowed. “Please don’t misunderstand my next question. I think you’re pretty great, but … why did Monarch ask you to investigate?”
“Why?” He looked to the right and let go of her hands. “You don’t believe I’ll do a good job?”
“That’s not what I meant. But you’d never even been a cruise director before our last voyage. Why did they ask you to oversee a crisis this important?”
He wasn’t answering. Had she hurt his feelings? But her question was a legitimate one. Was there something he wasn’t telling her?
Jon cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Lace. There are certain details I can’t reveal at the moment. This is a very complicated problem. Two other Monarch ships have been involved in recent drug busts. One more scandal, and our reputation as a family line is shot. I’m not the only one involved in the investigation. We beefed up the security team for this ship, and the company hired a retired FBI agent. With your help, we can catch these guys in no time. You know every crew member on this boat and would be the first to notice anything suspicious.”
Suspicious. The word rang a bell.
“Jon!” She grabbed his wrist. “I remember one passenger. He was skulking around near the kitchen on deck eleven. There was definitely something off about him.”
He straightened. “Did you catch his name?”
“No.”
“What did he look like?”
“Late fifties. Mostly gray hair. Wearing an awful Hawaiian shirt that barely covered his potbelly.”
“Aw, cupcake.” A new voice spoke. “Do you have to be so mean?”
Lacey jerked to the side. The uncooperative man from the galley hallway stood at the entrance, his arms crossed over a different but equally loud printed shirt.
He sauntered onto the balcony and shut the glass door behind him. “That’s no way to talk about a guy who’s offering you his protection and expertise.”
“Lacey”—Jon grimaced—“this is Reid Collins, the retired agent I told you about. He’s been working on this case since our last voyage. Mr. Collins, this is Miss Lacey Anderson. Please address her with respect.”
Collins popped a tiny white bubble and pulled the wad of gum from his mouth. He tossed it over the railing and held out spit-covered fingers.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Anderson.”
Lacey stared at the saliva-coated hand and glanced at Jon. If this was the best assistance corporate had given him, no wonder he needed help.
CHAPTER 32
THE BONE-TIRED VACATIONERS STUMBLEDonto the MSBuckinghamas a long day in port drew to a close. Lacey stood at her post in the lobby to offer assistance when necessary and bolster the spirits of the people with bags full of unnecessary trinkets and buyer’s remorse. Abby once dubbed it Affirmation Duty. Except this time, Lacey had two motives. Offer the customers moral support. And catch a smuggling ring.
Easy-peasy.
